


Romance-postmarked Holiday

by 655321



Category: Merchant of Venice - Shakespeare
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Happy Ending, Iambic Pentameter, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Polygamy, Post-Canon Fix-It, Shakesqueer, Unsafe Sex, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 13:22:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11578926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/655321/pseuds/655321
Summary: Dirty prose with dialogue in meter. Antonio/Bassanio/Portia polyam relationship.





	Romance-postmarked Holiday

**Author's Note:**

> My writing playlist:  
> https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL3xA5sitGyAFqvmEkB3i38YrKwelmgDWn
> 
> Lyrics inside *** are from Sparta's "Breaking the Broken" because it inspired me to actually write.

***  
And you say it's not okay  
Despite our life, you cannot stay  
And you say you're not okay  
Romance post-marked holiday  
***

((After Exeunt Scene I))

As if a reward for his good bidding, Bassanio gave a kiss to Antonio's mouth. Antonio wasn't expecting the kiss, but he was ever prepared. The second Bassanio drew near, with his hand on Antonio's chin as if to hold him in place, Antonio instinctively closed his eyes and accepted the kiss; inside he was full of yearning. If the kiss was Bassanio’s gratitude, that was certainly not what Antonio felt. The older man did not notice how tightly he held his friend's arm until the man made to move, and could not.  
Bassanio said nothing; only looked upward into the eyes of his gracious and long suffering friend, and heft a sigh.  
Antonio had known Bassanio's departure nigh, but would never admit to anyone the cause of his sadness. An uncertain end to the fruitless flirtations but also unyielding warmth of Bassanio's affections. True friends they were, and would be surely. But of late their interactions left increasingly heavy weight upon him. And he sincerely could not deign whether Bassanio was aware. For his own part, he rebuffed Bassanio's flirting with coy confessions of love. And he knew not where any of it left him in his friend's eyes.  
“What troubles you, dearest friend Antonio?”  
Bassanio spoke as with true concern. Antonio would have released the man resignedly but that Bassanio placed a hand upon his back.  
“That I could speak -”  
He wanted to speak and answer Bassanio plainly. But it was easier in that moment for Antonio to touch his friend’s lips with his own. Bassanio complied, without fear nor hesitation. Holding each other, they swayed as a bough in wind; each bent to the others command. The embrace felt good and right but still Antonio feared. When Bassanio would flirt with him he would fret, what that the younger man was using him. Worse still, he knew himself happy to be used. But now, succumb to worry, he could no longer move.  
“Bassanio, please tell me truly what  
you now want?”  
“I want now to pay my debts.  
Presently I want to see it complete.  
And your good service now, Antonio.  
It is you I love as I love Portia.  
I want you and I want fair Portia too.  
Shall I now be damned for wanting both?”  
Antonio sputtered. He did not know how to receive Bassanio's love, for the first time now laid bare, so adept was he at denying it.  
“You want me? You love me?”  
“Dear friend, you know.  
You must-”  
But here Bassanio was lost, his lips seeking again to unite with Antonio's. Antonio thrilled in it and yearned to give himself completely to his beautiful young friend. Bassanio's hands stroked his face, his hair, held him close, and toyed with his shirt. In this as in all things Bassanio was sensual, deliberate, confident.  
“Dear one, what must I know?”  
In Bassanio's eyes, Antonio saw his own passion reflected and indeed he knew.  
“My love!  
You must know my love for you, Antonio.  
Did you think that I play with you idly?  
That I would value your affection - your trust -  
So lowly? That I use you for my own  
Ends? Antonio. Love, Antonio, my love.”  
With this, he resumed their kissing, touching. Antonio shrugged him off.  
“But still you will go and leave me,”  
Antonio, indignant, felt the fire in him burning down, collapsing to ash.  
“So what should I think at that?”  
Bassanio fell to his knees and took Antonio's hand, kissing it, nuzzling it.  
“Think of me,  
And think of your love for me, and trust me.”

****  
Well I can't explain how we made it this far  
And you should know, only you control my heart  
Feelings overshadow reason, blocks out everything  
When all that matters should be me and you  
****

 

((After Exeunt Scene III))

“Friend Antonio, wherefore did you rebuke the lender’s kindness? Pray you, wherefore?”  
“Of what use is the man's kindness to me? Kindness, fie. Would that I had never known any kindness, so that I be spared its soft touch. I was made only for sadness.”  
“Such sadness be not for my sake? Fie, I  
Make for you more harm than my eyes can see.”  
“Bassanio, please cease to give me any thought. Nigh you sleep in your lady’s bosom and I demand you keep no thought of me.”  
“Sir I  
would not do so even if you bade me.  
Antonio, wherefore, upon receipt  
Of my love at last do you rebuke it?”  
“Thy love is not for me! It is for the  
lady, the one to whom you go to marry. Wherefore, Bassanio, do you bait me?  
And declare love for me upon the eve  
of your departure?”  
“Man, I know you better  
Than I know my lady, and though I go  
To seek her love, fortune, and tie my fate  
To hers, I will never cease a thought of you,  
and my love for you should never end even as  
I bind myself to another by love.  
Love is not jealous, my Antonio.”  
“And to this what says your Portia? Is thy  
Lady's love not vigilant? Or am I  
To be kept?”  
“I have told my lady 'fore  
Of my true affection for you. Our Love.  
She wants us to be three, all equal in love.  
Would you share such a life, sweet Antonio?”  
Bassanio took up Antonio's hand gently, and touched it to his lips.  
“Your Lady, she had known all of this time?”  
“Since the beginning of correspondence  
I have always been exceeding honest with Portia.”  
“In correspondence. Then she knew 'fore I did.”  
To this, Bassanio gazed at Antonio shamefaced with bottom lip held between teeth.  
“Forgive me, Antonio, that I-”  
Antonio could not help but embrace him. He covered Bassanio's mouth with his and held him in a lengthy kiss before pulling away to speak.  
“And she does consent? What of terms? Demands?”  
“None! Nothing of the sort, tis not her way.  
My lady is magnanimous and prurient.  
Her wit’s matched only by spirit of inquiry,  
Her bounty of kindness only by hot passion.”  
“Aye, tis love indeed. Get thee gone then, sweet man.”  
“Promise to me, Antonio, that you  
Will take no brash action against thyself  
in my absence. You are precious, my love, therefore for my sake stay whole and stay well.”  
“My Lord, by your command I will be well.  
Then so shall I cloister myself and wait  
on nought but your word, fair Bassanio.”

 

When the time came nigh on three months with Antonio still bereft of his love, and the Shylock demanding ghastly payment, Antonio's own resolve came as a surprise to him. The first draft of his letter to Bassanio begged the younger man to never leave his Villa of love, to stay with his lady and never again fret for poor Antonio. But this version Antonio could not send. The relief of having found a man to take his life was interceded by Antonio's desire to see again his Bassanio. Love left an ache inside Antonio that was now all he could feel. Only the love, only the ache, no more.

 

***  
I wouldn't trade what I got  
Not for anything at all  
****

((After final Exeunt))

Antonio watched the sunrise, through the window at first, then retreated to the outer estate, away from the house and lovers. With him he took a bottle of wine and in the early sun, he drank and dozed. He woke to Bassanio's call. “Antonio,”  
Bassanio took up his hand, pulling the taller man to stand with him. He held Antonio close, naturally. It felt natural. He leaned near Bassanio's face, ready to kiss him, but that he spoke before Antonio could.  
“Wherefore do you sulk about thus?”  
“Sulk? Why would I have cause to sulk? I am alive, thanks to your intrepid Lady.”  
“Then come to bed!”  
“What?”  
“We've had our bed rite,  
I and my Lady. Did you not also wish-”  
Antonio kissed him then, needing no more encouragement. And Bassanio could lose himself in this man. Antonio's nimble hands and hungry mouth. Bassanio could never conceive the way Antonio made him feel sacred. It was more than he deserved. Bassanio ached to reciprocate this love.  
“Husbands, ho!”  
Portia called from the house. In her dressing gown, she came out to the garden to meet them. “My Lord, give this to your Lord.”  
Portia smiled, giving Bassanio another ring, this one near to the one Bassanio wore, but unique. Antonio swore, Portia broke his heart. Her kindness overwhelmed him. Bassanio exchanged a smile with his wife, then turned to Antonio.  
“With this ring as symbol we mingle faiths?”  
“I need no ring for it, Bassanio.”  
“My Lord, I give myself to you in equal  
As I have to my Lady. Henceforth, husband?”  
“Aye, Love, aye! Fair Bassanio, my husband.”  
Bassanio slipped the ring onto Antonio's finger.Portia was blushing watching them as they kissed. As they parted, the older man looked at the ring, and then to Portia. She only smiled. Her long gown wrapped her body in the wind and Antonio felt her divine, and in his maelstrom of joy he knew he must express it.  
“My lady!”  
Antonio took up Portia in his arms in a wild embrace, spinning her round.  
“Great, kind lady! Gentle lady!”  
Portia giggled, and succumb to Antonio's love as to wine. Bassanio appeared next to them, not to be bereft. Antonio swept him up now too but in a hungry kiss. Portia watched them together, beaming. She laid her head on Antonio's shoulder, feeling giddy at the moment of mutual embrace.  
“On! On! To our marriage bed. I would witness your love for my pleasure, you sweet men.”  
Portia urged the lovers into the privacy of a suite and she did not need to urge them further. She watched how Antonio handled Bassanio, both so reverent and so fierce. Smothering him with love in a fury known only to those who have been so patient, and now need not be. Antonio could not but find Portia's enthusiasm endearing.  
“Love Antonio, is my husband not  
deserving of discipline? That he did  
hand away my gift of love so quickly.”  
“I swear, lady, that you had already  
punished me for that.”  
Bassanio simpered to his wife while he was locked in his husband's arms, Antonio kissing along his neck. Portia chuckled with a shrug.  
“Oh, well. Then, do with him as you wish.  
I know he is in some debt with you, Love.”  
“Pray, lady, I would have no talk of debt,”  
Antonio sighed and Portia touched his arm and kissed his cheek. Her airy presence soothed him nonetheless.  
“My Love so eager to see me abased?”  
Bassanio feigned offense to his wife, almost breaking away from Antonio but the older man held him fast. Portia took her husband's face in hand.  
“Sir, you are good, though not so innocent  
that I should not delight in seeing you  
chastised, if only in the loving way.”  
At this she turned and crossed the room to stretch her body over a chaise longue.  
“The lady is too good for you, Bassanio.  
I should have you instead.”  
Antonio kissed his lover, collecting Bassanio's full attention with a smirk.  
Portia laughed, now seated across the room from the lovers and watching them.  
“Sir, I give you leave and trust you to set  
him right for me. For I fear my husband  
a wild thing.”  
Antonio met Bassanio's eyes gamely, with a smirk and quirk of an eyebrow.  
“The lady bids me tame you.”  
“Do you think you can?”  
“And you would doubt it?”  
Antonio stripped his husband naked to the waist and continued, pushing Bassanio gently against the bed. When Bassanio fell backwards onto it, Antonio stripped him completely. Bassanio sat up and pressed his lips to the flesh under Antonio's shirt.  
“I prithee, dispatch!” Bassanio hissed urgently, while his own fingers worked on Antonio's trousers.  
Antonio only chuckled, slowly peeling the shirt from his body. Together they worked to strip him nude. Now, rather than be handled, Bassanio guided his Love atop him. And Antonio's eyes were starry watching his lover, nymphic as he pulled him upon the bed. Bassanio lay looking up at Antonio in the admiring way he had many times before, but now everything was different and both men free to explore the passion they shared. Bassanio had never seen Antonio like this, gone the melancholy replaced with a rapturous bliss both loving and aggressive.  
Antonio, growling, put teeth and tongue to his Love’s flesh. Bassanio writhed under the attention, and managed a simpering look to his wife. His two lovers would be the end of him, but what a gentle end.  
Bassanio could not hold back his cries as Antonio worked on him, lovingly with kisses and gentle touch. Antonio could have ravaged the younger man and it might even have sated him, but where would be the fun? So he resolved himself to the sweet task of teasing Bassanio mercilessly.  
With lips kissing, tongue tasting flesh, and his teeth occasionally nipping, Antonio showered his lover with affection in a manner both passionate and methodical. He watched and listened to Bassanio closely, needing to understand how his Love would react to each technique as he deployed it. Although he was resolute in pace and method, it still felt hasty for just how long his desire had simmered.  
“Antonio,” Bassanio began a slow chant of his lover's name. He needed more; he was aching hard. He clutched at Antonio's back and shoulder. Antonio moved to lay directly atop him, and took them both in his hand. Antonio slipped his tongue deeply into Bassanio's mouth as he groaned at the feeling of Antonio stroking them together slowly. Portia whimpered, but then gave the sound freedom to become a full throated moan. Both men reacted to this, though neither glanced over to see her pleasure. Bassanio squeezed tighter at Antonio's arm and his hips urged his lover on impatiently.  
Antonio let his motion slow until he was still, then released Bassanio despite his cries. He kissed his way over Bassanio's chest and hips, then took his lover's cock in mouth with little preamble. Bassanio cried out and mewled as if in pain. But he resolved to watching Antonio's maddening slow movements up and down, over his shaft; sucking hard, almost painful, then teasing his tongue across the sensitive head. Bassanio had to fall back, eyes closed. Biting his lip he turned to see his wife. Dressing gown laid across her thighs, one hand betwixt them and the other delivering a morsel of fruit to her mouth. Ah, Bassanio sighed, virtuous and decadent lady. Antonio then took him deeply into his throat and Bassanio let out a pleasured cry and clutched at the sheets beneath him. For watching him, Bassanio couldn't imagine how Antonio was doing this to him, or how he could keep it up the way he did. Antonio kept glancing up to him and every time their eyes caught, Bassanio felt himself tipping over the edge; but Antonio held him right there, mercilessly.  
“Antonio, Antonio!” Bassanio was chanting his name again, out of bliss and frustration.  
Antonio now ceased all his attention, pulled away from Bassanio and only returned for a kiss to his lips. The younger man growled against his Love's kiss. Before Antonio could tease him further, Bassanio wrapped his legs around the man's hips. He could see Antonio had not expected this, though he immediately moved to clutch at his thigh. He knelt between Bassanio's legs and kissed at his throat and collarbone. Bassanio's hips thrusting instinctively, their cocks slid together slickly.  
“Please, Antonio”  
Portia approached the bed, handed Antonio a bottle of oil. Antonio responded in a daze, taking the bottle slowly but also kissing Portia's hand heavily. She returned to her chaise longue.  
Antonio was trembling, holding himself over his Love, but fastidiously applied a generous measure of the oil to Bassanio's entrance. The younger man shook, and whimpered, creating a fey kind of bedroom music. Antonio kissed his lips whilst he slowly slid a finger inside his Love. As Bassanio grew accustomed to the feeling his reaction shifted from whimper to plea. He began wriggling his hips curiously and making vague attempts to coax Antonio's lone digit deeper inside himself.  
“Antonio, I pray, lend me more of you.”  
So Antonio slipped inside of his love another digit and worked the two together to create for Bassanio yet another fresh pleasure. Bassanio cried and screamed, painting an abjectly carnal portrait now with his legs spread wide.  
Portia and Antonio both by now were lending their own voices to this choir, both held to Bassanio's sway.  
“Still more, please Love,” Bassanio sighed, reaching for Antonio now, clutching his hip. “I need you inside me.”  
Overcome, Antonio kissed his Love again while slowly extracting his fingers. He quickly prepared his own shaft and sank carefully into Bassanio. Antonio knew it would not be long for him; once fully seated in his Love, he could barely move but to hold his own body over Bassanio's and accept the younger man’s ravenous kisses. Bassanio wrapped his legs round his lover and took for himself what he wanted, with aggressive movements of his hips. Antonio found he could barely control his own body; it was moving back against Bassanio's on instinct. So fearful was Antonio that he might spend before his young lover that he turned to Portia for distraction. Vexing; the sight of her supplying her own pleasure did nothing to abate his passion. So he summoned his will and took control. He took out his frustration in harsh love bites along Bassanio's neck and shoulder. He gripped Bassanio's shaft tightly in hand, so slick from their mutual excitement that the oil was unnecessary. Bassanio was moaning out pleasure and Antonio could feel his lover trembling, entire body inside and out spasming in ecstasy. Upon the sight of Bassanio spilling onto his own chest, Antonio let himself come as well. Riding out this peak, this ecstatic rapture of prolonged love was in itself a trial. It was not gentle, but gripping, hot pleasure searing near to torment and then slowly abating coolly, like an outgoing tide.  
Spent, the two men lay aside on the bed, gasping for breath. As it found them, and passion receded in favor of repose, Portia appeared, bringing with her a wash rag from a basin between the bed and the chaise longue. She handed it to Antonio, who cleaned himself and Bassanio wearily. Bassanio then curled up into Antonio's waiting arms and nuzzled against his husband's neck. Feeling Bassanio's breath against his chest was first distracting but, as Portia slowly joined the bed to wrap herself against her husband, Antonio finally succumbed to rest.


End file.
